


Bait of Pleasure

by holdouttrout



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-22
Updated: 2010-07-22
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdouttrout/pseuds/holdouttrout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an alternate timeline of <i>Continuum</i> (Yes, an alternate timeline of an alternate timeline), in which Sam is not military or with NASA. It was written for <a href="http://36-stratagems.dreamwidth.org/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://36-stratagems.dreamwidth.org/"><b>36_stratagems</b></a> for the prompt "Hide a knife behind a smile. Charm and ingratiate yourself to your enemy. When you have gained his trust, move against him in secret." Warning: Sexual situations and murder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bait of Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> My abject thanks to [](http://ultranos.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**ultranos**](http://ultranos.dreamwidth.org/) for reading it first and to [](http://abyssinia.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**abyssinia**](http://abyssinia.dreamwidth.org/), who shared my brainspace and betaed it for me.

Sam taped the last box closed and sat back with a satisfied sigh. In the morning, she would be flying to Colorado, leaving her boxes behind for the movers to deal with and would start her new job doing... something.

Whatever the new job was, it was top secret. All she knew was that it was on a military base at Cheyenne Mountain, that her previous work made her an "ideal candidate" for the position, and that it would be "hands-on."

Sam couldn't help it--she grinned, excited by the idea of doing something that wasn't just staring at a computer screen all day.

She surveyed the boxes in her living room one more time and went to change into something that wasn't covered with dust. She decided at the last second to shower, too, thinking she might as well go out for dinner--she'd just order in anyway, and it would be nice to get out of the apartment after spending all day with packing tape and a Sharpie.

She went to the little bar down by the corner. They had decent food and good beer, and she didn't want to go too far afield if she was going to drink. She thought about calling someone to join her, but her coworkers had said goodbye yesterday, and she didn't really know anyone else here. Sometimes it felt like she'd been living in limbo the past year--after her breakup with Jonas, it hadn't felt like there was much to do other than work and go home, and maybe take her bike out on the weekends.

Now, however, she was getting a new start, and she fully intended to take advantage of it.

On impulse, she ordered a cocktail instead of a beer--a frothy pink concoction that came with a tiny umbrella. It was utterly ridiculous. She took a sip, and grinned again.

"Now there's a smile you don't see every day," a man said from the barstool next to her. His voice was deep, rich, with just a hint of an accent, and he was good-looking, too: dark with dark hair, brown eyes that seemed to hold recognition, although Sam knew she'd never seen him before. She came here pretty often, and she would have remembered him.

Sam's usual method for dealing with strange men at bars was polite disinterest, but tonight was supposed to be about celebrating, so she smiled and said, "Well, I'm in a very good mood."

His eyebrows went up, "Oh?"

"I just got a new job," Sam said. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

He smiled, "Happy to leave this behind?"

"Yes," Sam said.

He laughed, a low chuckle that sent a shiver down her spine. He raised his glass and said, "To new beginnings."

Sam raised hers and said, "Exactly."

She took a sip and then another. She was almost done with the drink, and just barely feeling fuzzy around the edges.

"Let me buy you another one," the man said.

Sam almost declined, but then she thought-- _why not?_ "Sure," she said, and the man signaled to the bartender. In just a few minutes there was another drink, another umbrella, another smile.

"I'm Bill," the man said, holding out his hand.

Sam took it. "Sam," she said. He had a nice grip, Sam thought. Warm, confident, direct. She didn't think he looked like a Bill, but then, people probably didn't think she looked like a Sam, either.

"So," Bill said, "What do you do?"

Sam hesitated. "I--well, I'm not exactly sure what I'll be doing," she said, "but I've been... well, I've been working on--" here she paused; she had never quite gotten the hang of the easy answer. She settled for "--applied physics."

"Smart, too," Bill drawled. "You must be in high demand."

Sam felt the faintest flush in her cheeks. Bill's tone made it clear he wasn't just talking about work. The funny thing was, it didn't seem over-the-top, or pushy--he was just letting her know he was interested.

She was interested right back.

"What about you?" she said.

He shrugged. "Corporate acquisitions."

"I bet you're good at that," she said, without thinking. She looked down at her drink which was just about gone again, and blushed.

Bill gave her a little smirk. "Very," he said, his voice low. "I have become accustomed to getting what I want." For a second Sam thought he might be serious, and then he raised one eyebrow suggestively.

Sam laughed.

There was a third drink, carefully nursed to last, a spirited conversation, and Sam hadn't had so much fun in a long time. When the drink was gone, she found herself reluctant to leave. Finally, however, she managed to say that she should go, standing to underscore her intent.

Bill threw a few dollars on the bar and followed her outside. Sam was still feeling that same hesitation. If she wasn't leaving tomorrow--

"May I walk you home?" Bill said, interrupting her thoughts.

Sam rolled her eyes, but smiled. "If you must," she said, gravely. Bill held out his arm, somehow managing to make the gesture seem natural, and she took it.

"I just didn't want to let you go quite yet," Bill said. "Are you sure you have to leave tomorrow?"

Sam laughed. "I was just wondering the same thing," she said.

They stopped, and Bill turned to face her. He used one finger to brush along her jaw, leaned in, and kissed her, a gentle press of the lips that had something deeper behind it. Sam hesitated just a second, and then she kissed him back, pulling him toward her.

After a few seconds, Sam drew back. Bill's hand was on the back of her neck, his fingers tangled in the ends of her hair. His eyes were even darker than before, intense.

Sam swallowed. "I--"

Bill's fingers trailed down her neck, and Sam shivered as his hand fell away. "I should finish walking you home," he said.

"I am home," Sam said--it was true, they were standing on the front step of her building.

Bill looked up. "Damn it," he said expressively.

Sam gave him a quizzical look, and he shrugged, "I was hoping to use the rest of the walk to convince you to let me stay."

Sam hesitated. Well, she thought, she _was_ leaving tomorrow. She took a step closer, and said, "You just did."

His surprised look was gratifying. Sam took out her keys and led him inside. They took advantage of the privacy of the elevator and arrived at Sam's apartment door flushed and impatient. Inside, Bill took in the piles of boxes with a sweeping glance.

Sam said, "Don't worry, my bed's still made."

It was, although by that point neither of them was paying much attention to their surroundings, and the bed became unmade almost as quickly as they divested each other of their clothes. Bill ended up seated with his back to the headboard, and Sam straddled his lap, grateful for the eternal optimism of the males of the species as he produced a condom from his wallet. He put the condom on the empty table by the bed and tossed the wallet onto the pile of his clothes.

"Lucky," she said.

"Yes," he said.

Bill showed the same confidence in this that he had in the bar, and Sam had no complaints. She let him press her into the bed, his hands seeming to draw warmth up into her skin, his mouth sucking at her neck, her breasts, and beginning the delightful ache for more.

When he slipped his fingers into her, she moaned, and he circled her clitoris with small strokes, no hesitation. He drew back and watched her, eyes focused on her and somehow having all his concentration on her was almost better than what his hands were doing. She bucked off the bed as she came, and now he covered her, his mouth swallowing her cries, his fingers stilling but keeping pressure on her, and with a little bit of surprise she realized she wanted more--

He pulled back, but it was only to put on the condom, a few quick movements and a lazy swipe of his hand down his shaft, and then he nudged her back, her legs apart, and he thrust into her, hard, and if she hadn't been so wet, it would have hurt. As it was, the shock almost threw her out of the mood. Bill stilled above her, brushed her bangs to the side. "Hey," he said. "Relax."

Sam searched his face, and then he kissed her, deep and hungry, and she let it go. He moved in her, more gentle this time, then harder, only now she was ready and she met his thrusts. Her second climax came without warning, and Bill's rhythm faltered. Another few thrusts, and he groaned, his fingers digging into her hips, his eyes half-closed as he found his release.

He pulled out, and Sam turned languidly onto her side, watching as he disposed of the condom before coming back to the bed and kissing her.

"I never do this," she confessed.

He smiled, only this time it didn't reach his eyes. "That was... exceptional. I always wondered if you--" he said.

Sam frowned. "What?"

Bill's eyes had gone cold and calculating. Sam struggled to sit up, but Bill moved quickly and pinned her legs beneath him, somehow getting a grip on her arms.

Sam's heart pounded in her head. "Let me up," she said.

Bill wasn't listening. "It's a pity, really. For a Tau'ri, you're not stupid." His eyes raked down her body, "And you're much younger now, of course--" he sighed. "But I really can't let you go to Colorado."

Sam's mind whirled, trying to decipher his meaning, trying to remember if she'd mentioned Colorado. The thought was lost, though, as Bill let go of her left arm and grabbed her throat. He looked down at her with a strange mixture of hate and pity. "Samantha Carter," he said, and Sam's blood ran cold. She had never told him her full name, and the way he said it was almost gloating, obscene.

"This time you won't be able to stop me," he said, and squeezed.

She struggled, bringing her free arm up to try to shove him off, but he was strong--stronger than he should be. And then--it was impossible--but his eyes flashed gold, and the small part of her mind that was still thinking rationally knew she was going to die.

The whole time she struggled, his eyes never left hers.


End file.
